Daydreaming
by Amber Akasha
Summary: James has been daydreaming a lot lately. Ever since the first night back at school, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about a certain redheaded witch...


_Story: Daydreaming_

Summary: James has been daydreaming a lot lately. Ever since the first night back at school, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about a certain redheaded witch...

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of the Potterverse. I do not make any profit from this._

Just a little something that popped into my mind while I chewed on my favourite pen -ok, I didn't notice what I was doing until I set it down to type in the computer, but by that time there was little I could do for him. More fluffy than anything, though there are darker undertones if we take into account we _know_ how everything is going to end for him.

I don't usually like James/Lily, but, well, my muses are feeling capricious today.

Hope you enjoy it!

Hum...english is my second language, so please point out the errors so I can correct them.

* * *

James was leaning back on his chair, eyes glued to the snow he could see falling behind the window while he absentmindedly chewed on the tip of his favourite quill.

He sighed quietly, dragging his gaze back to the parchment in front of him, and trying to scrounge up a couple more words for his essay on... what was that essay about again?

Eyes unseeing, his glazed stare drifted back to the window.

He couldn't seem to concentrate.

And it wasn't just the boring homework, that much James knew. He had been feeling strangely disconnected for the past couple of weeks, ever since the start of the new term. He hadn't even been able to enjoy quidditch practice, and Sirius was starting to give him suspicious looks, as he hadn't even wanted to participate in the pranks the other marauder had arranged for the Slytherins. This was supposed to be a fun year, their last year at Hogwarts, full of laughter, and jokes, and after-curfew wandering.

And still James couldn't muster up the energy to care.

It had all started the night of the Start of the Year feast. Well, it had started a long time ago, he guessed, but since that night he just couldn't stop thinking about her.

He had been made Head Boy, and so had miss upright Lily Evans. Well, not Headboy, HeadGirl. Who, by the way, had almost questioned the Headmaster's sanity when she had learned that he was the other Head. But that hadn't been so important –I mean, when did the little redhead _not_ belittle James at every opportunity? It seemed she had been even more upset at him and his constant teasing than usual, because as soon as McGonagall had left the room she had launched into a furious rant about responsibility, duty, and... well, James had stopped listening at that point, but he could guess the rest.

To that point, everything had been normal. Same old, as Siri would say. And then...

Then her high-pitched, unstoppable rambling had started getting on his nerves, taking his already painful headache –he really shouldn't have had so much fire whisky last night- into a whole new level of torture.

And so, acting on an impulse, he did the only thing he could think of to silence her.

He didn't take out his wand and whisper a '_silencio_'. He didn't shout louder than her to get her to shut up. He didn't try to leave the room. For some stupid, unknown reason, he had leaned into her –_leaned_!- and kissed that pretty mouth of hers, effectively stopping the flow of words.

For a moment he stood still, savouring the quietness, and then instinct took over and he started kissing her slowly, placing his hands on her hips to support her as he leaned further into the kiss and softly traced her lower lip with his tongue, coaxing her mouth open and engaging into a full-out kiss, ever so tender and deliberate.

Unhurried, he took his sweet time mapping the redhead's mouth, and by the time he came to his senses he was slowly leaning back and looking into those startling green eyes, carefully untangling his fingers from the handful of fiery hair where he had rested his right hand, cupping her nape.

Without saying a word, the girl had walked out of the room, a strange mix between baffled and enraged.

And she hadn't looked at him since then. They'd get together to patrol the halls, and she'd look the other way, often bringing friends with her as ridiculous chaperons. James could have called her on it –her friends shouldn't be out after curfew-, in fact, he should have (Head Boy duties and all), but he didn't.

Because if he did she would look at him again, and those beautiful green eyes would shine with hatred.

Strangely enough, that thought sent a painful prick to his heart, which he soon dismissed, too occupied revelling in the world of fantasies coming to mind.

The redhead didn't know it, but she would love James someday, and if he had his way, it would be sooner rather than later.

And James would marry her, he was sure. They'd marry, and have kids, all of them with wild, copper-coloured hair and sparkling green eyes, and they'd have a daughter, and she'd be very intelligent, just like her mum, and they'd have a boy too, and he would love quidditch and pranks and would be one hundred per cent marauder, and then the third boy would be a bit of a bookworm, but they wouldn't mind, because he was their son after all, and he had his mother's button-nose and love for learning. And they'd all live in Godric Hollow, and they'd visit his mum and dad every weekend to do a little catching up.

James' eyes drifted to the parchment once more. Yes, he would marry that fiery little flower...

* * *

R&R? Pretty Please?


End file.
